Nymphomania

by Kyoko Church

  ‘And she heeded your advice?’

  ‘Eventually.’

  ‘Eventually?’

  ‘It took great time and effort, Ewan. I worked with her for about three hours this afternoon. Each time her illness took hold and she began to thrash and wail I sternly admonished her and began again.’

  ‘And this worked?’

  ‘To some degree,’ Phillip replied, looking down.

  ‘Phillip, please, this is my wife. Be plain with me,’ Ewan said.

  ‘Of course, I’m sorry.’ Phillip rubbed his forehead. ‘To be honest, this is an area where not all experts agree. So I am proceeding with the best medical advice I can find.’ He drained his glass and continued. ‘We’d been working for three hours, as I’ve said. Each time I would progress with the healing portion of the massage, the illness would cause movement, vocalisations, and the like. But you mustn’t lose hope, Ewan. I really felt she was trying.

  ‘At any rate,’ he continued, ‘in the end, her paroxysm was quite violent, despite my patience and slow approach. She was finally able to control her screaming, limited that to panting and gasping, but, even restrained, there was thrashing. It appeared involuntary.’

  Ewan was silent as he listened to the description of his wife’s therapy. What a difference between her reactions with Phillip and the sanctioned consummation that transpired between husband and wife after the therapy was complete. It was true; after Phillip’s work she was more like a dutiful wife, as was appropriate for her status. She lay beneath Ewan and simply moaned and sighed quietly as he made love to her. It was perfect, really.

  So what, then, was this feeling that gnawed at him?

  Chapter Seven

  James sat on his narrow single bed in his butler’s quarters, frustrated. Enraged. Damn that Lillianne. He knew from the beginning there was something about that woman. Harlot! How could he have let the wedding proceed?

  So much for the quiet, conventional married life he’d envisioned for his master. Lillianne became part of the household and turned everything upside down. Now that ridiculous Phillip Samms was here! Ewan was more distracted and unavailable than ever. Samms and his preposterous treatments. Using Draper Estate like his own nefarious playground. How could Ewan not see he was simply a misogynistic ne’er-do-well who was wreaking havoc and making a mockery of his private life?

  All James had ever wanted was success for Ewan Draper, his lord and master. That was his duty to his profession, his calling, as butler of Draper Estate. Helping his lord have an appropriate, respectable home life so that he was free to achieve greatness with Draper Industries was James’s ultimate goal. Couldn’t his lordship see that?

  Damn! James pounded his fist on his bed, let out a frustrated sigh and lay back, closing his eyes. An image of Ewan and Phillip in the library as his master dismissed him flashed in his mind. He grimaced in frustration even as the familiar stirrings took hold. He tried to ignore it. But the more he battled against his feelings the more his body insisted.

  No. I will not, he told himself.

  Sitting up, he adjusted himself so that he could go to the kitchen and get a knife.

  ‘Please, doctor! Please! Oh God!’ Ewan could hear the shrieking and pleading as he was coming down the hall.

  He felt a potent mix of horrifying guilt and pounding arousal. He was late. He hadn’t meant to be. There had been a mix-up with a vendor for the mill, a problem only he could attend to. By the time he’d finished up he was two hours late for his session with Lilly.

  After those first few days under Phillip’s care she’d pleaded with Ewan to do something, to change her treatment. It was the justification Ewan needed.

  Ewan could barely admit it to himself, didn’t want to think too long about what it meant, but he hadn’t been enjoying fucking his wife after her therapy, her limp body lifeless under him while he pumped his seed perfunctorily into her. Not when the memory of what her thrashing, pulsing body had felt like lived in his head. Lilly’s unhappiness was the excuse he gave himself to tell Phillip that he now wanted to be present to oversee his wife’s therapy. Phillip had initially balked but Ewan insisted. As he explained to Phillip, he felt it was only practical that he eventually assume management of his wife’s affliction himself, and how could he learn to do so unless he was privy to how it was managed?

  They eventually came to a compromise. Phillip could begin with some testing, research to better understand the limitations and parameters of Lilly’s body and how it was affected, as he explained to Ewan. But he would not begin treatment and definitely not bring about paroxysm until Ewan was present.

  Now Ewan was two hours late. He could only imagine, based on the desperate pleading emitting from the lab, what kind of testing Dr Samms was conducting.

  It hadn’t been Phillip’s intention to break the agreement he and Ewan had come to. His session with Lillianne began quietly enough. He decided that the break from her physical treatment gave him a chance to delve into her psychological state, so he commenced with questioning her about her background. When had feelings of this nature started, what brought them on? As he continued along this vein he made a fascinating discovery. He couldn’t wait to do some testing based on what Lilly confessed to him about her time working at the mill.

  Next Phillip began showing Lilly various pictures, photographs he’d been able to come by thanks to his affiliation with Ms Rodham, depicting men and women in various compromising positions. From what he’d read, only men became aroused by such visual stimulation. Normal women did not. Hence, he wanted to gauge the nymphomaniac’s reactions to these pictures. Lilly was initially shocked at the explicitness and looked away. But he could see that she was a naturally curious person. Or maybe it was her illness that compelled her to want to see these graphic portrayals. Yes, of course that’s it, Phillip thought. At any rate, he insisted she carefully study each flailing limb, each ecstatic expression, every exposed bit of flesh. At that point it was necessary to have her undress so he could proceed with a pelvic examination.

  As he suspected, he parted Lilly’s pubic hair and labia to reveal shining wetness inside her soft, pink folds. She’d even gasped at his touch, so he naturally felt it necessary to restrain her.

  Ewan still had not arrived so, with his patient undressed and available in this way, Phillip decided to conduct further physical testing. When Lilly protested, saying how her husband would be displeased, he said, ‘Now, don’t worry, Mrs Draper. I’m not going to start slow paroxysm without Ewan. I’m simply checking some reactions and reflexes.’

  Phillip had seen before how his patient’s clitoris would stiffen like a small penis when aroused. But now he wanted to do more intensive investigation. Gently easing back the clitoral hood, he carefully used his finger to test the clitoris’s sensitivity in different areas. As Lilly panted and sighed, Phillip rubbed gently on one side, then the other. He flicked the little button rapidly, then stroked up underneath it. When he put his wet finger right under the stretched-back hood and massaged in lazy circles, the volume of Lilly’s cries increased.

  ‘Now, Lillianne. Control yourself,’ he admonished. ‘I haven’t even started your treatment yet.’

  Next, he took an artist’s paintbrush, a tiny one meant for creating very intricate detail, and with its silky-soft bristles dipped in Lilly’s seed, he painted her tiny nub with easy up and down strokes.

  Lilly’s limbs were shaking now. ‘Please, doctor. Remember –’ she puffed out, between gasps ‘– what my husband, oh God –’ she said as he continued with the paint brush. ‘He doesn’t want me to, ah! Ah!’

  Phillip took the brush away. ‘Lillianne. I’m only using this tiny brush. Its bristles are the softest, the lightest I could find. Surely you can manage to control yourself while I conduct these simple tests?’

  He went back to using the brush, but Lilly simply could not seem to calm down. Phillip marvelled at how, even with this tiny tool, her clitoris swelled and stiffened as big and hard as ever, possibly
even more so.

  ‘The degree of this affliction never ceases to amaze me,’ Phillip murmured, flicking softly with the brush as he gazed at his patient’s bucking hips. Her cries reached a peak when he stopped. ‘Lillianne, Ewan will be here at any moment. You don’t want your husband to see you writhing and gyrating like a whore, do you?’

  Silence.

  ‘Well, do you?’

  ‘N-no, doctor.’

  ‘Very well,’ Phillip said. ‘Why don’t you take a second to breathe? Relax. Regain your composure. In a moment we’ll begin again; this time, I’m certain, with more control. Ewan should be here very soon and then we can get on with your paroxysm.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  But of course, Ewan wasn’t there very soon.

  Chapter Eight

  I really must be very, very sick, thought Lillianne.

  She hadn’t thought she was. When Phillip first diagnosed her, Lilly just assumed there was some mistake, that they’d misunderstood or misinterpreted what they’d seen, but that soon Ewan would understand and everything could go back to how it was supposed to be.

  But since Phillip had assumed her care she could not deny how she was feeling. Her sex was constantly wet. She thought about coupling with her husband all the time. And those paroxysms. Now she understood that was what she was doing with the sewing machine when she was at the mill. At least when she worked with the machine and pushed herself over the edge her relief was intense but immediate, controllable and complete. Like swallowing a bite of food. But when the doctor had her in his control, helplessly pinned down, teased to the brink of madness, when she finally managed to stay quiet enough, fought back her urges hard enough, that he deigned it appropriate for her to be eased over the edge, the resulting torrent of sensations as he slowly worked her flesh, rubbed her clitoris in those excruciatingly slow but insistent circles, was so intense that as the waves finally crashed over her, her body racked with spasms, she blacked out. And when she came to, she felt as aroused as ever.

  She thought it could only get better, once she managed to convince Ewan that he should be involved. He was, after all, her husband, the man she was in love with. Perhaps she could even learn to enjoy her therapy if Ewan was the one to do it and not that wicked doctor. Because Lilly did understand that Phillip Samms was wicked.

  But how could she predict what Phillip was capable of, what he’d be able to convince her darling Ewan to allow, all in the name of treating her?

  She didn’t think Ewan knew how late he was, and couldn’t know what she had endured at the hands of the doctor in the hours waiting for him, before he got home from the mill. The teasing of her body with his evil hands, the tormenting of her mind with those wicked photos. But was the doctor the wicked one, or was it her, her body reacting to all of it? Because by the time he got out that brush and began to stroke her, her flesh was so eager she couldn’t contain herself.

  Should she tell Ewan how his supposed friend had goaded her? How, after the first hour of “research”, he finally lost the pretence of his professional façade. Would her husband believe that, as the doctor stroked those soft, silky bristles over and over her sensitive clit, he said, ‘Now, what are we going to tell your husband when he comes home? That you are a good girl and submitted to my research? Or that you are such a horny slut that you couldn’t even stand having the softest little brush being run over your clit without coming?’ She’d cried even as the crisis loomed. ‘Don’t you come, slut, or I’ll have to tell him, won’t I?’

  Every time she got close he made her say, ‘Please stop, sir, or I’ll come.’

  And even when Ewan finally arrived, the torment did not cease.

  ‘Phillip!’ Ewan yelled when he entered the lab. ‘What is the meaning of this? I specifically instructed you not to proceed with Lillianne’s therapy until I was present.’

  ‘Ewan, calm down,’ the doctor said. He moved away from Lilly’s quivering body and she had a welcome reprieve. ‘I’m afraid I continue to be shocked by the degree to which your wife is afflicted.’ He sighed. ‘In fact I haven’t begun Lillianne’s therapy. I was only testing her reactions to various stimuli. As you can see, I am using only the smallest brush –’ He moved to Ewan to show him the tool of her anguished torment. ‘But even this minor stimulation enflames her.’

  Lillianne couldn’t bear to look at her husband. How could she explain? It wasn’t just the brush. It was remembering the vibrations of the sewing machine, the graphic photographs he forced her to study. He used her mind to prime her body for his infernal testing.

  ‘I see,’ Ewan said. Without looking at him she couldn’t tell from his response what he must think of her. But then he said quickly, ‘Well, in any case, I am here now. Phillip you are dismissed. I will continue with her treatment.’ As he said this he began unbuckling his trousers and Lilly’s heart soared as she thought of being with her husband.

  ‘Ewan, I know this is going to seem highly irregular and even, I dare say, a little awkward. But for the sake of your wife’s mental health, I must insist that I demonstrate the safest way for you to perform your conjugal duties.’ Before her husband could protest, the doctor’s manhood was naked and erect and he had positioned himself at the foot of the bed where Lilly was strapped down.

  Even as her husband objected and Lilly herself lay in a state of shock that the doctor would take his wickedness this far, with each leg fastened to the two wheeled tables in a spread-eagled position, she could not help her body from pulsing over the nearness of his phallus to her entry. As much as she hated the doctor for what he’d done to her, her body knew only that it had been teased and tormented for hours. It ached to be filled. Her gaze was drawn instinctively to the sight of his rod. It was not the size of her husband’s – she scarcely could imagine another man who was – but it was rigid and full.

  ‘Ewan,’ the doctor was saying, as he adjusted himself between Lilly’s legs, ‘there is a danger here that what you do could aggravate the affliction rather than alleviate it. I must instruct you and it must be explicit. If you want your wife to get well, this is what we must endure. Desperate times, my friend.’

  ‘But Phillip, this is insanity …’

  The doctor was no longer listening.

  He placed the head of his cock at Lilly’s opening and, to her horror, Lilly could not help but let a whimpering sigh escape her. Dr Samms glanced at her husband as if to say, “See?”

  Oh, how she couldn’t bear for Ewan to witness her this way! But the feeling of the smooth, hard knob against her wet, sensitive hole was so good. She could feel her flesh contracting around it, willing it to proceed further, to fill her aching emptiness. And the doctor obliged.

  Sliding his shaft into her slowly, he said, ‘What we are trying do, Ewan, is to promote regular coupling without the patient, your wife, being overtaken by symptoms.’ Lilly couldn’t concentrate on what the doctor was telling her husband. He was thrusting slowly in and out of her as he spoke and her pelvic muscles contracted ecstatically around him. Oh, how good it felt to be filled at long last! ‘It may be difficult to maintain your concentration,’ he puffed slightly as he continued, ‘but until she has progressed further in her therapy you should avoid contact with this area.’

  Continuing to shunt in and out of her, Dr Samms licked his thumb and slicked it in circles around Lilly’s clitoris. Lilly screamed and bucked as her excitement spiked. ‘You see?’ he grunted, removing his thumb. ‘You cannot risk her reaching paroxysm during intercourse. This is what you must try and avoid. As such –’ he stopped thrusting for a moment and leant over Lilly’s body on the table. Lifting himself onto one foot, he pressed his pelvis firmly against hers. Lilly felt the base of his shaft putting exquisite pressure directly on her engorged bud. He began fucking her again while she moaned out in bliss. ‘As such, this position should also be avoided,’ he said, his voice slightly shaky through his exertions. ‘You see what I’m doing here, Ewan?’ he asked, still rocking and stimulating her clito
ris, his full cock throbbing inside her.

  ‘Oh! Oh! Doctor!’

  ‘Lilly, please be quiet. I need your husband to see what’s happening here,’ Dr Samms said, grinding into her a little harder.

  ‘Doctor, please stop! It’s … It’s starting to happen!’

  ‘Ah, very good, Lilly,’ Samms said as he stopped and repositioned himself standing. ‘You see, Ewan. Your wife has certainly made progress in terms of her attitude. She wants you to help her. She will tell you when it is dangerous to continue.’

  Even as he said this, Lilly panted and whimpered in frustration. His cock was still hard inside her. Her body wanted release so badly.

  ‘By avoiding touching or thrusting against this area –’ Phillip began pumping into her harder and massaged his palm against her mound as she whimpered, helpless in her bonds ‘– you should be able to minimise the build-up of seed and the suffocation of the uterus.’

  ‘All right, Phillip,’ Ewan said in a clipped tone. ‘I understand. Now …’

  At that moment there was a clatter in the hallway. Ewan, distracted, turned to the door briefly then turned back to his wife. ‘Phillip, I can proceed from here, please …’ But then there were raised voices from outside. James could be heard. Was he actually yelling?

  ‘Goddammit!’ Ewan said. ‘Phillip, stop now! I am going to see to whatever the hell is going on outside and when I return I will take over with Lilly’s treatment.’ And he stepped out.

  But the good doctor was not to be stopped.

  ‘Now for the healing cream,’ he muttered, grasping Lilly’s knees he pumped in earnest. Lilly’s sex quivered as his thrusts threatened to send her over the edge.